


Happy Fourth

by preferredmethodofprocrastination



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: One Shot, fireworks suck, for them at least, heck if i know who Peggy's hubby is rn, ptsd warning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-24
Updated: 2016-01-24
Packaged: 2018-05-16 00:35:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 393
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5806447
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/preferredmethodofprocrastination/pseuds/preferredmethodofprocrastination
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>And the rocket's red glare... the bombs bursting in air. Peggy and Tim commiserate over their radios.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Happy Fourth

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first fic I've ever posted. I hope you like it. I don't really know if I need to do a disclaimer but better safe than sorry. I do not own any of the characters created by Marvel Comics or displayed in the Marvel Cinematic Universe.

She felt like there was boiling water being funneled down her throat. She felt like she was being tortured every time one of the bombs... fireworks, she had to remind herself that they were fireworks, went off. She heard her four year old son squeal with delight, presumably because of the dazzling lights in the sky. She was, however, far from thrilled. The adrenaline fueled panic racing like liquid fire through her veins turned to cold terror by the time it reached her head. She knew her son and her husband were in danger. They should be down in the cellar hiding from the bo... fireworks. No. It wasn't dangerous. No one was trying to kill them but all she could hear in her head was his laughs turning to screams as the bombs hit the roof.

“Miss Union Jack, this is Dum Dum. Do you copy?" Dugan sounded nearly as shaken as she was. She fumbled for her radio and pressed the button to answer.

“This is Miss Union Jack," she managed. “I copy," she braced herself for bad news. Some new threat besides the Cold War? Someone dead? New York bombed to bits? It could have been anything, and anything would have been better than the horrific dread, crawling through her hair like spiders.

"You feeling as bad as I am?" He croaked.

“The fireworks," she said. She flinched as another one went off.

"Reminds me of the good old days." Tim moaned, she could hear the shell shock in his voice. She could hear it in her own.

"And the rocket's red glare," boom. She sang the verse with a little less enthusiasm than usual.

"The bombs bursting in air," she heard a boom over the shaky radio connection. They both gave wet runny laughs. “Gave proof through the night," Tim sang.

"That our boys were still there," she groaned as the next firework exploded into an array of nightmares she wouldn't soon shake off. “Oh say does that star spangled banner yet wave," she whimpered as 10 of the blasted things went off at once and caused her fingers to rake ragged holes in her silk stockings.

“You're so brave Pegs," Tim sobbed over the radio. "We are brave. And we'll be okay..."

"Of course we'll be okay," she shook as another damn firework burst outside. "We'll be okay."

**Author's Note:**

> I didn't really know how to rate this so I didn't. If anyone has any suggestions on how I should rate things like this in the future please let me know.


End file.
